


Trust the Ice

by BloodMarauder1062



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMarauder1062/pseuds/BloodMarauder1062
Summary: When Pitch Black discovers Elsa's fear of her own power, he uses it to rebuild his army. But luckily, a boy with white hair and ice powers of his own helps Elsa realize her full potential. A Jelsa one-shot.
Relationships: Elsa (Disney)/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Trust the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note that I started writing this fic long before the second Frozen movie had come out, so let's pretend that doesn't exist, shall we? A slight AU in which Anna becomes queen instead of Elsa while Elsa remains shut in her room.

The wind was howling again. Its shrill cry reverberated through the icy room, causing the frost covered windows to rattle against the walls of the castles. Outside, snowflakes beat against the ground, glistening as their sharp crystalline structures punctured the ground with a silence that seemed to roar. Those who were unlucky enough to be caught in the sudden storm had watched as the full moon, acting as a bright beacon in the night sky, was suddenly gone, covered by grey clouds that slithered and crawled, inching like an ominous fog. The light of the stars was snuffed out, darkness seeming to seep into every crack and crevice of the small town of Arendelle.

Inside the room, a white-haired girl sat in a corner, curled up in a tight ball. Her hands covered her ears, trying to block out the noise of the storm. Rocking, she murmured three words to herself obsessively again and again, fixating on the power that she irrationally feared.

“Conceal, don’t feel.”

A crackling sound began to fill the room, coming from the icy floor. Elsa forced her eyes open, watching as the room around her began to split and reform. Icicles that hung from the ceiling were falling to the ground with a force greater than gravity. They shattered on impact, dissolving into tiny snowflakes that floated back up to the ceiling to restore themselves. The room seemed to shake; the strength of the wind outside was perilous. Her power was out of control. She had frozen Arendelle, and yet nobody knew she was the cause of the eternal winter.

A knock sounded on her door; Elsa was not sure whether she had imagined the sound, or whether it was part of the storm outside.

“Elsa?” A quiet voice containing a tremble. “Elsa, I’m scared.”

Elsa knew that Anna was thinking of a different storm. One that had taken the life of their parents, bringing about the helplessness and lack of control that Elsa was feeling now. Since they had died, she had been losing control more and more.

The knock sounded again. When was the last time Elsa had laid eyes on her sister? Anna had become a queen in Elsa’s truancy, grown-up and strong. Not only had Elsa missed out on the crown of the kingdom, but she had missed out on her sister growing up. She regretted that more than losing her place in line for the throne.

Elsa stayed silent, knowing she would never be able to let Anna in. Not when she was so turbulent. She had hurt Anna once before, and she did not plan to do it again. Eventually, she felt her sister leave, her absence cutting through Elsa like a knife.

Elsa closed her eyes again and tried to take deep, steadying breaths. She felt her heartrate begin to slow, and with it, the wind. When she felt as though she was in control of her powers once again, she allowed herself to relax. Shoulders slumping with the weight of her icy dominion, Elsa failed to realize that even though the wind and snow had vanished, the darkness outside remained.

Those who braved to poke their heads out of their doors found that all light had been siphoned from the sky. The moon, which had been full of light and hope but minutes before, was gone. Not a single star flickered in the sky. Nobody dared to leave their homes, instead returning to the comfort and warmth of their walls and calling it an early night. The world had gone black. Pitch Black. And the residents of Arendelle decided it would simply be best if they waited for it to pass.

**

It had been many years since Pitch Black had been defeated by the Guardians and chased underground. He was unsure of how much time had passed, but he knew that he had to stop hiding and biding his time until he could recreate his Nightmares. He felt strong enough to conjure a few, but he needed fear for them to get stronger. And for him to find fear, he needed to leave the underground world. He finally allowed himself to venture aboveground, and it was then that he found Elsa.

At first, when the snow began, he had thought Jack Frost had found him; despite everything, Pitch feared the white-haired enigma. Jack was only a child and yet the power he had displayed last time they had met left Pitch feeling uneasy. He refused to display his fear, and instead he chuckled as the snow began to stir in a gradual uproar. He conjured a Nightmare, settling a hand on her soft neck to ground himself as he awaited the fifth Guardian. After almost an hour, Pitch began to realize that Jack was not coming, that he had never been there in the first place. Which meant that the snow was coming from somewhere, or some _one_ , else. He could feel the pull of the power, the ice calling for him in a way he had never felt before. His Nightmares seemed to be drawn to it as well, which could only mean one thing: fear.

He allowed them to track the fear like a bloodhound on a hare, their thick muscles rippling with anticipation as they drew nearer. The worse the storm got, the more energized they became. Their long manes waved in the wind, their breath coming out in puffs of volatile mist as the scent warped their entire beings. It was as if Pitch could see them getting larger with every massive stride they took. They had never reacted this way before; the downright intensity and power of the black horses filled him with an innate sense of entirety. The Guardians would never be able to defeat him with this kind of fear fueling his power.

The Nightmares led him to a window of a large, rock-walled castle. Their nostrils all flared; backs arched as they pawed at the snow with tremendous authority. They wanted to go in: they were only awaiting his signal. Pitch slipped into the room quietly, eyes dancing around with a certain sense of eagerness. His horses followed behind him, snorting enthusiastically. Their dark eyes glistened and reflected off the icy confines of the room. Pitch found himself in awe of his surroundings; he had never seen ice like this before. It seemed to glisten off every crack and crevice, the ornamentation beautifying. He did not think that Jack Frost himself was capable of such feats. Eyes as wide with wonder as North’s, he settled upon a figure sitting in a corner. Her light white hair was in a braid across her shoulder, settled around a dress that seemed to be made from the solid water itself, cape wrapped around her shoulders. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, pulling herself into as small of a ball as she possibly could. Without a doubt, he knew that she was the one in charge of the storm.

She was looking right at him, eyes overflowing with unshed tears and terror. His Nightmares could see it too. He put out a hand to hold them off, taking a step closer to the girl. “Can you…see me?” He asked tentatively. Outside, the wind seemed to increase in magnitude, and he heard large masses of ice hitting the sides of the castle walls. The girl was wearing white gloves that went to her elbows and was pulling at them fretfully. Pitch took another step towards her, curious. “Can you see me?” He repeated softly, worried that if he spoke too loudly, the ice around him would shatter.

The girl nodded twice.

At first, Pitch was bewildered. Nobody had been able to see him since the Guardians had overpowered him, and the simple ecstasy of being perceived thrilled him. He had been _lonely_ , though he never would have admitted that to himself. The corners of his lips turned up into a tiny smile, moving closer to the girl. He could feel a Nightmare behind him, her breath hot on the nape of his neck. The girl’s eyes moved from Pitch’s face to that of the horse, and she scurried further into the corner, cowering. He smiled.

“What’s your name, my dear?” He asked deviously, eyebrows arching at her weak form. With the power she yielded, he could not understand her need to hide away and tremble in terror.

“Elsa,” she said quietly, her eyes agitatedly jumping between Pitch and the Nightmares. The storm outside seemed to grow louder, and Pitch cast an unnerved glance at the window.

“Elsa,” he said slowly, letting the name roll of his tongue, reveling in the taste of it; the way it moved against his lips felt like a blessing. His horses seemed to animate with the name, their pawing and restless snorting intensifying. “Tell me…” he uttered, “Do you know who I am?”

She nodded again, more frantically this time.

“You’re the Boogeyman,” she whispered. A ferocious gust of wind sounded outside, sending a collection of ice shattering against the side of the castle. Elsa recoiled, wrapping her arms tightly around herself at the sound. The Nightmare behind Pitch stomped her foot loudly against the ground with a crack, the sound echoing off the icy floor. Pitch could feel Elsa’s fear swelling, extending towards the outside storm. He knew without a doubt that he would be able to use her. Her fear was already significant enough to overwhelm him with power; he could not wait to see what she could do for him once he could craft her fear to do his bidding.

“And how is it that you came to believe in me, Elsa?” He drawled, an eyebrow raising inquisitively. His mouth curled into a small smirk, eyes glistening with excitement.

“I’ve always believed in monsters,” she replied quietly, voice trembling slightly. “Because I am one.” She pulled at her gloves again, and it was as if the action caused the room to fall apart. Ice chunks began to fall from the ceiling and the walls shattered with an explosive sound of breaking glass. Pitch’s horses shrieked, scattering across the icy floor to avoid being hit by the flying shards, but Pitch remained rooted to the spot. The smile on his face expanded, lighting up his entire appearance.

Pitch Black had finally found his weapon; he intended to use her fear to his full advantage and take down the Guardians once and for all.

And he would start by bringing fear to Arendelle.

**

Jack Frost was used to hearing rumours. Since his relationship with Jamie, more and more children were beginning to believe in him. However, he still often went unseen and undetected. He normally ignored the gossip that reached his ears, opting instead to spend his time on more riveting things. But there was one tale that seemed to buzz around the town he was currently inhabiting. The people were speaking of a nearby town whose winter never seemed to end. Jack was captivated almost immediately, his desire for fun and adventure beating out his love for the town he was in.

It did not take him long to reach Arendelle. The moment his feet touched the ground, he felt calm. It was as if a heavy, warm blanket had been thrown around his shoulders, enveloping him like an earnest hug. The snow that whistled around him called and beckoned, forcing him to move towards its source. He felt at _home_ here; he reveled in the feeling of cold that caressed his skin as he closed his eyes and let the wind pull him. When he opened his eyes again, he was in a room filled with ice. The silence in the room was overpowering; if he listened hard enough, he could almost hear the ice itself as it glistened. He set a light hand on the wall closest to him, the cool ice sending a wave of warmth up his arm. He could feel his power stirring, yearning to add to the beauty of the room with its own distinctive elegance. He forced himself to move away from the wall and step further into the room. The magic flowing through the room was raw and undeniable, but he sensed a menacing aura within the arctic allure.

It was then that he heard it: a breath, like the soft exhalation of a lover. His head wheeled around to locate the sound. There was a girl sitting in the corner of the room. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back to rest against the wall; her lips moved as if she was praying, her fingers nervously tugging at the long gloves on her hands. Jack took a step towards her, instantly captivated. She was beautiful, like nobody he had ever seen before. It was apparent that she was the one who had fashioned the room and yielded the magic. It was pouring off her in waves, pulling at him, yanking, insisting that he move closer. So, he did. Beneath the glamour of her icy powers, he could feel her fear just as extensively as the magic.

“Hello?” He whispered, kneeling in front of her. The girl continued to move her lips for a moment before letting out another tiny sigh and opening her eyes. Jack’s eyes met hers, and he felt as though he was being swallowed by the ocean. They were a striking blue, but it was more than the colour that captivated him; it seemed as though her eyes were mirroring his. He recognized the intense loneliness in her gaze, and his heart ached with the authenticity of it. After all, how many years had he spent feeling the same way? He reached out a hand to her, wanting to mend her notion of solitude. His hand passed right through hers and his heart seemed to drop into his stomach.

She did not believe in him. She could not see him.

Jack felt an emptiness fill his center as he shook his head, pieces of white hair falling over his eyes. He brushed them away and tried to reach for her again.

“No, you have to believe in me!” He cried. “I’m right here!” He felt the anguish of being unseen to the same magnitude as he had all those years ago, back when not a soul believed in his existence. He dropped his chin and shoulders, closing his eyes and letting out a large breath. A puff of condensation escaped his mouth, lingering in the air before dissipating sluggishly. Then he looked back up at the girl. He raised his hand, looking up at the sky as he focused his power. The room filled with snow; the fluffy white flakes sprinkled over them, and he watched as the girl looked up. Her eyes seemed to narrow in fear, and she shook her head, standing up abruptly. Jack scrambled up to follow her, confusion riddling his person. The girl backed herself up into the corner.

“No, no, no,” she said quickly, grabbing at her hair with her gloved hands. “I want it to _stop_!” Jack was startled to hear the panic in her voice. He could feel the temperature in the room drop, and the floor started to shake beneath his feet. He promptly waved his hand through the air, stopping the snow. He had never had someone react to his power so adversely before. Her alarm seemed to ease with the halting of the snow, and she looked up at the ceiling, blue eyes appearing almost questioning. Her eyes dropped quickly down to her hands, analyzing the gloves that covered them.

“Sorry,” Jack said quickly, even though she could not hear him. “Snow is kind of my thing. I didn’t realize it would…” He trailed off as he realized that she was looking at him with wide eyes. He narrowed his eyes, studying her expression. “Can you see me?” He breathed.

“Jack Frost?” The sound of his name coming off her lips was like syrup. Jack wanted to revel in the moment and imprint the memory of the way her lips formed his name. He nodded desperately, feeling his core returning to him as if he had never lost it, the loneliness ebbing away.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said hurriedly. “But how-I mean, you just…” He could not stop the words from pouring out of his mouth, confused as to what had changed.

“The snow,” she exhaled, gesturing towards the ceiling with a gloved hand. “I’ve never been able to stop my own power before. I knew it couldn’t have been me.” Jack studied her, incredulous as she took a step towards him. Her hand moved as if to touch his face, but then she pulled it back quickly as if he had burned her. Clasping her hands tightly together and pursing her lips, she murmured, “you’re real.” Jack could not stop himself from smiling; it lit up his entire face, his eyes alight with the exhilaration of finding somebody _like him_. He nodded, his untrimmed hair falling into his eyes as he did. He brushed it away before hesitantly taking a step closer to her.

“I’m real,” he assured, watching as her posture closed; she crossed her arms, taking a tiny step back, away from him. He could not help but feel disappointed at the distance she was trying to keep between them. All he wanted to do was get closer.

“How did you find me?” She asked cautiously.

“I followed your power.”

She seemed to melt slightly at that, her shoulders relaxing as her arms fell back to her sides. It was as though she had been expecting a different answer, one of malice and deception. But his answer seemed to appease her, and she offered him a little smile, the corners of her mouth barely moving; if he would have blinked, he would have missed it. She sank back down against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chin.

“Come join me.” She beckoned to him, her fingers curling slightly, hand outstretched as if she wanted him to take it. He quickly moved to her side, sinking down beside her. He could feel the icy chill emanating from her body, and he shivered, though not from the cold. The pull she had on him was still there, tugging insistently now that he was right beside her. He leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing hers, and he felt her stiffen. But she did not move away. They sat like that for a long time, in complete silence, before she finally spoke.

“You have ice powers.” It was not a question, though he could hear the curiosity in her tone. “My mom used to sing songs about you. She said you were a spirit, one who had powers like me. I always thought she was trying to comfort me.” Her gaze was fixed on the room in front of her, but she broke her concentration as she turned to look at him. Her eyes lingered over him before landing on his face, taking in everything. He felt as though he was being analyzed, every feature of his visage being dissected by her eyes. Finally, she seemed satisfied by what she saw, and she returned her gaze forward again. He realized he still had not said anything, not even a sound to acknowledge her words. He cleared his throat nervously, running a hand through his messy white hair.

“Your mom was right,” he murmured, also staring straight ahead. With their shoulders touching, it was as though he could feel her power flowing through him, strengthening him, fuelling every cell in his body. He could not stop himself from looking at her again. “The moon gave me my powers. I was chosen to be a Guardian, to protect children.” She furrowed her brow, turning to face him. Their eyes met, and Jack felt his breath hitch in his throat. He had never seen beauty quite like hers before; she radiated power and strength.

“Protect…children?” She asked slowly, the confusion evident in her voice. “Protect them from what?” Jack gave a small shrug, the action causing his shoulder to press into hers, and he consciously leaned into her.

“A lot of things, really,” he murmured. “But mostly things that try to frighten them. Years ago, we had to fight someone named Pitch Black. He wanted to take everybody’s happiness away…” Jack trailed off, eyes moving to scan her face for a reaction. “He had these big horses that fed on fear. He called them his Nightmares.” At the mention of the word, he noticed Elsa stiffen, pulling away from them. The absence of her shoulder against his caused his mouth to turn down into a tiny frown.

“Nightmares?” Elsa asked quietly. “You mean…you fought the Boogeyman?” Her face had gone pale, eyes losing their curious light and fading into a dull, lifeless glare. He shifted his body, so he was facing her, furrowing his brows.

“I guess he’s more commonly known as that, yeah,” he nodded.

Elsa’s face went completely white and her eyes fluttered closed. She was shaking, and Jack moved to place a hand on her arm, gently reassuring her. “It’s okay,” he murmured soothingly. He had not meant to frighten her, but there was no doubt that his words had made her uneasy. “We defeated him. He’s gone now.”

He was not prepared for the shake of Elsa’s head. For her fearful eyes to open, meeting his with a look of desperation and wild abandon. For her body to begin trembling so violently that the ice walls they sat in began to crumble around them. She was losing control of her power.

“No,” she murmured, her voice trembling, cracking as she looked at him and shook her head again. “No, he’s not. He was just here.” He could tell there was more she wanted to say. He stood up as a large icicle fell from the ceiling, shattering against the icy floor. The ground was beginning to shake, and he watched as Elsa pulled her knees to her chest, rocking like a fearful child.

“He was just here,” she repeated, voice desperate and turbulent. “And I think I made him stronger.” 

**

The panic that was enveloping Jack now, overpowering, soul-crushing panic, had not been felt by him since before him and the other Guardians had defeated Pitch. Pitch, a villain they had thought vanquished, but who had now returned with a new powerful weapon: Elsa’s fear.

The moment Elsa had told him of Pitch Black’s return, he had gone to the North Pole to alert North, who quickly summoned Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy. It was time for the Guardians to rise once again. The longer their meeting went, the more restless Jack became. He thought of Elsa, all alone in her palace of ice, shaking in the corner as if she had been frozen for years. His heart ached at the thought that she was isolated, too afraid of her own power to leave her room.

He desperately longed to get back to her, an incessant, persistent ache settling deep in his bones. He told himself it was because he was fearful that Pitch would come back for her, but he knew that was a lie. He yearned to be by her side simply to be there.

“We must destroy him completely this time,” North said fiercely. “We cannot provide him with another opportunity to reappear.”

The Guardians discussed strategy for hours, each contributing their own theories as to how they could defeat Pitch once and for all. Eventually, North suggested that Jack return to Arendelle to protect Elsa. “It won’t do any good to let Pitch get stronger, to feed off her fear,” he grumbled before hastily returning to his plans. Jack knew that North was concerned about a volatile, potentially dangerous girl with no control over her powers, though he would never admit it. Jack hastily agreed, calling the wind to take him back to Elsa’s castle. It picked him up, swirling around him with excitement, and he felt it caress his legs as it carried him across the sky.

As his feet landed on the cold ground of Arendelle, he felt the wrongness immediately. Nightmares were everywhere, their black manes rippling as the wind blew ferociously. It was raging like he had never seen before, hitting him with sheets of icy rain that shattered against the ground with what seemed to be increasing force. It was almost too strong for him to move, and he summoned his magic to redirect the wind, so he was moving with it rather than against it, making his way towards Elsa’s window. As he approached, he saw Elsa. She was curled up on the ground in a small ball, head tucked deep into her chest, arms around her head, protecting it from falling ice. And above her stood Pitch Black.

Jack swooped through the window, heart hammering loudly against his chest, a constant thud that reminded him of how dangerous Pitch could be.

“Hey Pitch!” He yelled over the chorus of Nightmare snorts and howling wind. He knew Pitch heard him, because he looked in his direction, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Jack!” He said excitedly, spreading his arms wide. “I was wondering when I would see you again!” Another Nightmare materialized beside him, already beginning to grow larger, at a rate so fast that Jack felt cold dread fill him. He had never seen the Nightmares feed off this much fear before. It was obvious that it was Elsa’s fear they were lapping up, that her being frightened of her power and frightened by Pitch was a never-ending circle.

He had to break the chain.

He moved towards Elsa, thankful that the screaming wind did nothing to his body temperature. His feet moved across the ice. He used his staff for balance, letting it help pull him along, each step becoming harder than the last. Ice was beginning to break off the castle in chucks, and Jack dodged them, using the wind to sweep some out of the way before it hit him.

“Elsa!” He cried against the wind. Elsa heard his voice, looked up at him, eyes wide with fear.

“Jack?” She asked, her voice quivering. “Jack, I’m scared.”

Her voice brought him back to years ago, before he had become the Guardian, when him and his sister had been playing on the ice. She had said those exact same words to him. They caused Jack to freeze, reliving the memory as if it were a nightmare, eyes searching Elsa’s face frantically.

“I know,” he called back, the same words he had used all those years ago. The same words he had used to help rescue his sister. He forced his feet to move again until he was standing beside her, and he crouched down. “Elsa, you need to listen to me!” The wind was growing louder, and he heard more Nightmares materializing. Pitch was laughing.

“Where are the other Guardians, Jack?” He taunted, spreading his arms wide, blackness beginning to pour from his hands. “Are they coming, or did they send you to die alone?”

Jack ignored him, focusing only on Elsa. “Elsa,” he said again, ensuring he had her attention. “Darkness,” he started slowly, trying to quiet his voice so Pitch would not hear. “That’s the first thing I remember. It was dark, and it was cold, and I was scared.” Elsa’s gaze seemed to shift on him, captivated by his story. He wondered if she was hearing herself in his words. Her breathing was erratic, frantic, and he reached out to place a gentle hand on her arm. He hoped to exude confidence, a calm light in a turbulent storm. The wind seemed to be calming around them, wrapping them in a warm cocoon of ice. It blocked out Pitch and his Nightmares, enveloping them in their own shield of calm. He looked up and realized that she had done just that. There was a dome of ice covering them, blocking out the outside world. Nightmares came tearing at it, their screams dimmed by the wall of ice as their hooves collided against it trying to take it down. It remained intact. Her power was breathtaking, powerful. He had to force his eyes away from it to focus on her once more.

“But then…then I saw the moon,” he continued. “It was so big, and it was so bright. It seemed to chase the darkness away.” He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a small breath. Mist puffed out of his mouth, dissipating into a cold cloud before being swept away by the wind. Elsa’s eyes were still on him, intense, searching, hopeful. He opened his eyes again, locking them with hers. “And when it did, I wasn’t scared anymore. Why I was there and what I was meant to do…that I would never know. And a part of me wonders if I ever will.” It felt odd to share his story; he had never opened to anybody about his days before becoming the Guardian. He had never shared his fear, his loneliness, his _emptiness_ before. But his feelings were echoed in Elsa’s eyes so perfectly, so completely, that he could not stop.

“But now…now I’m a Guardian,” he said softly. She had leaned into him so much that he could feel her breath tickling his cheek. “I protect children. I have a purpose. And now…” He paused, eyes earnestly searching hers for any sign that she understood. “I know why I have my powers. I know why I am here, Elsa. These powers are not a burden. They’re a gift.”

It was as though his words breathed new life into her. Her eyes lost their fear and she slumped against him for a moment, exhausted by the display of power she had just demonstrated. And then she stood abruptly, moving away from him. He knew the second she brought down the dome of ice surrounding them that the Nightmares would close in. That Pitch would close in soon after. He looked at her, raising his staff.

“You and I,” he promised with a small nod.

Elsa’s eyes met his for a moment, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“You and I,” she repeated. She brought up her hands and let the ice dome fall.

The Nightmares were on them in an instant. Jack brought up his staff, but before he could summon his power, a Nightmare was on top of him, barreling into his chest and knocking the staff out of his hand. He tried to scramble after it, but the Nightmare was on top of him. It was feeding off of his fear, his uncertainty over the vast number of them. He saw Pitch’s foot come down beside his head, and he try to roll out from under the dark cloud that had suddenly pinned him down. Pitch laughed, a wild, manic laugh.

“I’m too powerful this time, Jack!” He cried gleefully. “The girl fuelled my Nightmares so completely that no lack of fear can destroy them now.” Jack cried out as Pitch’s dark shadows whipped across his face, slashing cuts across his skin. He tried to summon some semblance of power, but the darkness was weighing him down. He felt heavy and frightened; he wondered if this was what Sandy had felt when the darkness had consumed him so many years ago. The Guardians did not know he was in danger. He had no way of contacting them, no way of getting to his staff, no way of using his power. All he had was…

He turned his head, an almost impossible task. The dark shadows had almost completely enveloped him. He could hear the Nightmares snorting with excitement, Pitch’s laughter in the back of his mind. But he focused on Elsa, the only chance he had in the moment. He tried to call her name, but his tongue was too heavy. He felt himself slipping away, only his eyes remaining uncovered.

And then he saw a flash. His eyes moved towards the girl standing in the corner. Her cape had fallen away, revealing a dress made of ice beneath. Her white hair was whipping around her face loosely with wild abandon, her eyes narrowed not in fear, but anger. 

“Let him go,” she breathed, so quietly that Jack did not know how he had heard it, but so ferocious that he felt a tingle of pride well up inside of him. He heard Pitch laugh again as one of his eyes was covered. He opened his mouth to scream out, and darkness entered his throat, causing him to choke. He could not die, he was immortal, but the lack of breath _hurt_ , more than anything he had experienced before. He felt as though he was dying, as though he was being suffocated by the black grit.

Through his one eye, he saw Elsa raise her arms, saw her mouth moving as she talked to Pitch. The sand was in his ears now; he could no longer hear what she had to say. He saw her arms rise above her head, and she looked up at the sky for a moment. Then, in one swift motion, she brought her arms down hard on the floor of the palace, face screwed up in concentration; he could tell a guttural scream had risen from her throat.

The ground beneath him began to shake, and a flurry of ice exploded from her like a supernova. Shards shot through the Nightmares, dissolving them on impact. Beside him, Pitch shifted, and then, as if by a miracle, he too disappeared. The blackness remained for a moment, and then Jack felt the weight on top of him disappear. He sucked in a large gulp of air gratefully, feeling the oxygen enter his lungs. He coughed once, twice, then crawled onto his hands and knees, gasping.

Everything was quiet. The wind had stopped, the ground had ceased shaking. And then he heard heels clicking across the ice, making their way towards him. He looked up to see Elsa kneeling beside him, eyes filled with concern.

“Are you okay?” She asked softly. Her words seemed to echo off the walls, the eerie quiet overwhelming. He nodded, taking another breath, and offering her a weak lopsided smile. He sat up, looking around. All trace of the Nightmares, and Pitch Black, were gone.

“What _was_ that?” He asked, pure admiration dripping from his voice. Elsa stood up, offering her hands to him to help him up. He took them gratefully, allowing her strength to feed him as she pulled him to his feet. He immediately went for his staff, picking it up, its presence sending a wave of comfort through him.

“I don’t know,” Elsa admitted quietly, looking down at her hands. “I guess…it was my power.” Jack’s smile expanded, shaking his head slightly. He ran a hand through his shaggy white hair.

“Well, your power saved my life,” he murmured, reaching towards her to tuck a strand of hair out of her face. She looked up at him, and Jack saw her smile widely. His heart swelled at the sight; she was glowing, radiant. “Thank you,” he said softly, his words feeling inadequate.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she smiled. “I’ve never controlled my power like that before. I’ve never been able to…” She broke off, looking at her hands once more before lifting her eyes to his. And then she was closing the gap between them and wrapping her arms around his neck. Before Jack could form words, her lips were on his, insistent, hungry. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him, pressing their bodies together. His heart was flapping insistently against his chest as his lips moved against hers, and he felt her smile against his lips before she pulled away. They stood there for a moment, wrapped in one another’s embrace, smiling like lovesick teenagers, before he finally spoke.

“So, Princess Elsa,” he said thoughtfully. “Now that you can control your powers, do you have a plan?”

She pulled away from him, eyes moving to the door of her room. “First,” she said, looking at him once more, eyes twinkling. “I’m going to find my sister. I’ve spent too many years hiding from her.” She grabbed Jack’s hand, giving him a small tug as she pulled him gently across the room. “And then I’m going to reclaim my throne. Anna never wanted to be queen.” She stopped, leaning over to press another firm kiss to Jack’s lips.

“Besides,” she murmured against his lips, a small smirk lifting the corner of her mouth, “I think you’ll look great in a crown.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, wow, wow. I started this story so long ago when my best friend made me watch Rise of the Guardians for the first time. I immediately became obsessed with the thought of Jack and Elsa together, but I kept losing inspiration for the story. I came back to it multiple times, and now that it's done, I feel kind of sad about it. However, I am so happy with where it went, and if you've read this far, thank you from the bottom of my Jelsa-shipping heart. I love you all.


End file.
